


Melt Not In Weeping

by DesertWillow



Series: Atish'an [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Phobia, Spiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 10:51:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4134708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertWillow/pseuds/DesertWillow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caitlin Lavellan is afraid of spiders and Cullen wants to help her somehow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melt Not In Weeping

**Author's Note:**

> So a little bit of a hurt/comfort fluff I had to get out of my head while I work on the rest of Part 2 of ARTPB. I have a crippling phobia that I had a minor run in with a few weeks ago. I had this as a bit of a headcanon background information for a while about Cat, but after my own episode, this thing would not leave me alone. Since thinking about this made me think about my own fear, I HAD to write it or I wasn't going to get any sleep ever again.
> 
> This whole thing rather got away from me. It feels very self indulgent, but oh well... I wrote it so I may as well publish it.
> 
> If you have a fear of spiders, do NOT read this.

**Part I**

They had been working late one night in the War Room. Josephine and Cassandra had long given in to the call of their beds and Leliana had not lasted much longer.

But Cullen was a stubborn man and the Herald seemed to be his match.

“I’m not having this argument _again_ ,” the Herald (Cat, she kept insisting, hating the Andrastian title) sighed out exasperated. “I understand your concerns, but I think the reward outweighs the risks.”

“The _risk_?” he grumbled. “You say it as if we’re not certain it’s a trap.”

She dragged a weary hand down her face. “Yes, but while we are certain that it is a trap, we are also certain that the mages _can_ close the Breach. We’re only guessing as much with the Templars. And if we meet—” She froze, her hand in the air, palm down in front of her. Despite the odd position, she stood absolutely still.

Cullen stared at her, waiting for her to continue her sentence. A moment passed. Two. “Herald?”

She still did not move, or correct him, but she managed to make a small squeaking sound.

“Are you alright, Cat?” he asked, trying the nickname she’d insisted he use (mostly because she laughed at him everytime he tried to pronounce her full name). He took a step closer and noticed where her eyes were glued.

On her glove, the one with a removable palm for easy access to the Mark, a small spider was crawling on her hand. It looked like a perfectly ordinary spider to him, something harmless that caught bugs and hid in the dusty corners of the Chantry.

But seeing the Herald — Cat — so clearly afraid, it helped put some of her odd quirks in context. The way she shook out her boots anytime she had to put them on. The way she quickly changed the topic when Josephine mentioned squashing one with her clipboard in the Chantry last week, followed by the furtive glances and tense way she walked through the building for the rest of the week.

The Herald of Andraste — Cat — was afraid of spiders.

Cullen wasn’t a particular fan of them himself, but he recognized true fear when he saw it.

“Do you wish for me to just kill it or to get it off you first?” he asked gently. He wasn’t going to just squish a spider on her hand without checking first.

“ — Off,” she managed to whisper.

He gave a light flick (it really was a small spider) and it landed on the floor near his boot where he promptly stepped on it.

The second it was off of her, the Herald was practically on the other side of the room. She was doing an odd shaking dance, slightly bouncing on the balls of her feet and furiously rubbing her hand and arm. She didn’t exactly say anything, not words at least, but more just an inarticulate sound of shaking out nerves, distress, and disgust.

“Afraid of spiders?” Cullen asked, stupidly. The answer was obviously yes, but he wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Could we — could we just not talk about it?” she snapped. She swallowed and gave a small conciliatory shake of her head. “Sorry, I just… I _have_ to get out of here.”

She ran past him and out the door.

 

* * *

 

**Part II**

She was coming home! Finally after nearly two months out in the Western Approach, Caitlin was coming back to Skyhold!

Cullen was trying — and failing — to not look like an overeager puppy, but after their talk on the battlement before she had left (and everything that came after), he was definitely eager to see her.

Still, he managed to at least stay up in his tower — after he watched her ride into Skyhold from battlements — and after he climbed up to his room to make sure his hair was in place. He was not going to run at her, greeting her at the door before she had managed to even put her things down.

Cullen would wait for an appropriate amount of time for her to stable her hart and deal with her tackle before he went to see her. Or maybe she would hand those tasks off to the groom and just come to see him. Even before he had ( _finally_ ) kissed her, his office was usually the first place Cat went when she returned.

He didn’t last very long. He was soon jogging down the steps and walking toward the front steps.

When he didn’t see her or her stag near the gate, Cullen assumed that she must have been quicker than he had expected and had gone on to stables. But when he got there, her mount was there, but she was not.

Had he crossed path with her? Skyhold was expansive and there were multiple routes to the same place. Maybe he had gone one way out of his office while Caitlin had gone the other to find him. Perhaps she was waiting for him in his office while he was running around looking for her.

But Cullen was met with disappointment when he opened the door to his still empty tower.

Had Cat changed her mind? Two months apart was a long time. Long enough for her to come to her senses and realize she had made a mistake.

Cullen’s spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door. A small part of him hoped it was Cat, even when he knew Cat _never_ knocked.

But his pragmatism didn’t stop the feeling of disappointment when it was Iron Bull at his door.

“Say…” Bull said, drawing out the word and looking like he really didn’t want to be there. “You and the Boss… You’re a thing now, right?”

Cullen suspected that Bull was asking only to be polite. All of Skyhold had been talking about their kiss on the battlement by supper that night. And the whispered and _giggling_ had only started to let up at all a few days later when the Inquisitor’s party had left. Even though Bull had been with the Inquisitor’s party, there was no way Bull was not aware of Cullen’s new relationship with her.

Cullen nodded regardless.

“So… you might want to go check up on her…”

“What is it? What’s happened? Is she injured” She had looked uninjured when he watched her return, but that didn’t mean he might have missed something. Maker’s breath he was a fool. Worrying about his own insecurities when—

“Slow down there.” Bull stopped Cullen from marching out the door by simply standing in front of it. “She’s fine — well, not hurt at least.”

“Meaning?” Cullen was not in the mood to play guessing games.

“We ran into some trouble on our way back. Took a wrong turn ended up in the middle of a fucking spider’s nest.”

Cullen’s chest dropped in sympathy. He already saw the problem. “What happened?”

“She sort of lost it. Never seen the boss like that. Cat may like playing with fire literally, but she didn’t let up. Those bastards burst into flame and she didn’t stop until even their ashes were ashes.” Bull just shook his head, horns nearly missing the doorway. “After that she got real quiet. Didn’t saying anything on the rest of ride home and bolted for her rooms once we were back.”

Cullen placed a stabilizing hand on his sword. “Thank you,” he said as he ran out the room.

In front of her door, he was at a loss for what to do. While she went into his office regularly (and had even poked her head up into his loft once out of curiosity), Cullen had never even seen her hallway before, let alone her actual room.

He hesitated for long while, but when he did knock, Cullen was surprised to hear a small yelp come from inside. Not one that made him overly concerned, it had only sounded as if he had startled her. But it wasn’t something he typically heard from Caitlin.

Other than the yelp, there wasn’t an immediate reply. He knew she had heard him, but he wondered if she was pretending to not be in. She had wanted to be left alone after that spider back in Haven, and that had been nothing.

Through the door though, she finally called out, “I gave orders to be left in peace.”

Should he just leave? Pretend to be a servant who hadn’t gotten the order? No. He’d let her know that he was here at least and if she still wanted to be left alone, he would respect that. “Cat? It’s me?”

There was a long pause. He turned to go, when she called back, “The door is open, Cullen.”

He opened the door on a bright room. It was a marked contrast to his dark tower, but it seemed to suit what we would expect for the Inquisitor. In front of him was a small stairwell with plush carpet and no Cat.

He wasn’t wholly comfortable walking into Cat’s room with her no where in sight, but the reason she didn’t greet him was clear once he reached the top of the stairs.

She was wrapped up in a blanket rather tightly, with only her face visible and was sitting on the armrest of a small sofa. Perched really — he couldn’t see her feet but something that looked like her knees were near her chest. He wanted to laugh actually. She looked absurd and it was absolutely endearing. But he remember how terrified of the small spider. A nest of giant spiders could not have been easy for her.

“I know I look ridiculous,” was the first thing she said to him.

He indulged in a small smile and crossed his arms. “Maybe just a little.”

The smile she returned was wain and the chuckle was breathy and shaky. “I’m a mess.”

He stepped further in the room. Caitlin had a fire going, but with the large windows, she likely had no use for candles until evening settled in. A desk and several bookcases sat in one corner, but the couch seemed to be where she prefered to work, several books scattered in various stages of completion laid on a small side table. “Would talking about it help some?”

She vigorously shook head. “Absolutely not. I hate even thinking about it. But I can’t _not_ think about it. Nothing can ever distract me, not even a juicy new book.” She gestured toward the one of the seats where a book sat with a half-clothed couple gazed into each other’s eyes lovingly — or lustily, perhaps — on its cover. Likely something that was… not to his taste.

“That the reason for this.” She gestured to the blanket, but wrapped around her like it was, it looked more like wiggling or flapping. “I just keep thinking about how this place was when we found it. The cobwebs everywhere. What if we missed one? What if there’s one in here and I don’t see it and —” She shivered and closed her eyes, looking a bit nauseous. “We need to change the topic.”

Cullen thought about what he could do to help. He briefly debated offering to read the book out loud for her, but glancing at the cover once more curbed that impulse. “Would a game distract you?” he asked.

“A game?”

He nodded. “I could go get a chessboard and we play a round or two.”

Caitlin hesitated, thinking it over. “I’m not sure I could get out from under the blanket to move the pieces.”

“If you tell me where you want a piece moved, I can do it for you. Would that help?”

She gave a half shrug. “Not like could hurt at this point.”

When he returned with the cheap wooden set he and Dorian sometimes used when the weather prevented them from playing in the garden, Cat still hadn’t moved.

“Can we play here?” she asked sheepishly. “I don’t really want to move.”

“If you wish.” He picked up her book, and put it on the table with the other books (that all had similar covers). He sat on one side and put the board on the other seat. Cat turned so she was still firmly planted on arm rest but she faced the board and slid on foot down to help balance her.

It took awhile, but Caitlin looked like she was beginning to relax. First the blanket came down from her head to rest around her shoulders. Then, her hand would cautiously shoot out from its folds to move a piece instead of him having to do it. By their third game, the blanket was mostly abandoned; pooled around her while she still perched on the arm rest. But now it seemed like that was her chosen seat simply for the easy of play. Cullen in return had taken off his plate armor and was relaxing in just his shirtsleeves.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that,” he told her, taking in the board.

“See what?” she replied with faux innocence.

“You oh-so-casually moving that pawn over a space when I sacrificed my bishop,” he said sternly.

With absolute conviction, she said, “I did not touch it. That pawn has always been there. Always. Since we set up the board. Even since the days of ancient Arlathan.”

“Cheat if you wish. I still have you in four.”

Cat shot forward. “What! How?”

“You left your king exposed. And once I move here,” Cullen said, moving his knight. “I put you in check. You’ll be able to hold me off for a bit, but eventually…”

Accepting her fate, Cat knocked over her king, grumbling, “I can’t beat you, even cheating.”

Cullen gave her a smug grin he knew he got from his sister. “I thought you weren’t cheating.”

She just looked toward the ceiling exasperated.

“Another round?” he asked.

Cat sighed noisily. “Fine, but I really should get something to eat.”

Cullen looked at the rest of the room. There was still enough light to comfortably see by, but the sun was setting and soon they would need some candles to see.

“I don’t really want to move though. This is nice.” Her smile was soft and warm in the fading sunlight.

“I could go get us something while you light some candles,” he suggested.

“Works for me!” she chirped.

When he returned with some sandwiches and other finger food, the candles were lit and the small side table cleared off and moved so it could serve as a dining table . And while Cat was now sitting in a proper seat on the couch, she had wrapped the blanket back around her shoulders and had her legs pulled in toward her chest once more. Not as bad as she had been when Cullen had first walked in, but not as relaxed as she had been when he had left.

He made no comment about the change, and once they were situated, she settled back in again, letting go of the blanket to hold her food.

“I hate it,” she whispered without a prompt. The sun had set and while the candle gave plenty of light, gone was the earlier warmth that had lit her face. “I can barely remember a time when I wasn’t like this.”

“Have you found anything that helps?” he asked, hoping to be of more help in the future.

She shook her head ‘no.’ “Ignore it until it goes away?” she suggested forlornly.

He have a small smile at her weak joke.

“It was around my 6th name day. Before my magic emerged so no one really cared about what I did. Other than Aodhan — my brother,” she clarified. “We were running around in the forest, daring to see how far away from camp we could make it before we were caught. Since there weren’t a lot of _shemlen_ ’s around we kind of had free run of the place.” Cat didn’t look at him. She had put her sandwich down and was hugging herself, running her hand down her arm. A less frantic version of the same gesture she did back in Haven. “We were playing some game. Nothing real. Just one of those silly games you make up on the fly as a kid. But it caused us to go running off in all directions, so I was by myself.”

Caitlin was starting to shiver again and Cullen wanted to hold her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, and pull her to his chest. Protect her. But she was actually talking about it and he worried if he touched her, it would spook her.

“First, I got turned around and then I tripped. Smashed an egg sac with my arm.” She unbuttoned the top of beige outfit she wore around Skyhold. Underneath she wore a dark green camisole with thin shoulder straps. Cullen didn’t have the chance to take in the expenses of creamy skin she was revealing because when she pulled down the collar and sleeves, he could see why she took off her jacket.

All down Caitlin’s arm were thousands of scars, formed together into a patch of ruined skin. The whole arm was rough and bumpy with patched together skin. Healed long enough ago there was no color difference, but with the different texture, it moved oddly — picked up the light differently — than the rest of her skin.

“I don’t know how I got away. Can’t remember. Aodhan’s theory is that was the first time I used magic, but no one thought to check at the time. All I know is that I managed to stumble away far enough that my friends found me. I was lucky that _they_ weren’t very poisonous.” She stressed the word with absolute disgust. “As it was, I barely lived.” She righted her top but kept it unbuttoned. “Ever since then, I can’t even stand to hear even the word. If I can prepare myself enough and sort of… Detach? Does that make sense.” Cullen nodded. It was one way he coped with what had happened in Kinloch Hold. “If I can keep myself from thinking about it, I can talk about it. But if I slip up at all, I have to stop. If I say stop, you have to stop.”

“Of course,” Cullen said emphatically. At that, he did take her hand into his. She only startled a little before she squeezed his hand back. “Are there other things that help?”

She thought for moment. “Be willing to distract me?”

“Always.” He pulled her close and placed a kiss against her tattoo. Cat settled herself against his chest. The warmth of her against was nice. Not just in the way that kissing her was nice but being with her, even when they were at their worst, was comfortable. Having someone in his life who knew of his own struggles and trusted him with their own. He’d never really had something like that before.

Cullen kissed the crown of her head and Cat nestled further into his embrace.

It wasn’t until the morning light woke him up, that he had even realized that they’d fallen asleep on her couch together.

 

* * *

 

**Part III**

“Ser! The Inquisitor has return through the rift,” the soldier announced. The rest of the crowd around him him cheered.

“Thank the Maker,” Cullen couldn’t help but say. When the report came that the Inquisitor had fallen through a rift, time stretched on for an age. “Secure _him_ for transport back to Skyhold,” he ordered, pointing at Erimond. “The Inquisitor will likely wish to pass judgement on him.” Not the complete truth, but good enough for the command.

“Her Worship and the others are on the other tower,” the page told him.

“Very well. Send her word about Erimond and I’ll meet with her once I can.” He wanted to see her _now_. Even just a glimpse across the battlefield would be enough. For a moment he had thought —

But no matter. She was safe and he had more work to do.

When he finally managed to make it over to her location, the companions who had followed her into the Fade were standing aimlessly around, but she was no where to be seen.

Bull caught his eye and nodded toward a dark corner, mostly obscured by debris and well away from anyone running past.

He jogged over and after rounding a bunch of boxes, there she was. Safe, whole, and ...cleaning.

She was scrubbing furiously at her staff, trying to clean it free of any viscera that was on it.

“Inquisitor?” Cullen ventured quietly. Cat didn’t even glance up. He came around to face her and fully behind the shelter of broken boxes and such, the noise of the fortress disappeared. And he could hear her sniffling.

Cullen had only ever witnessed Cat crying once, and only because he had caught her unaware. Once she had spotted him, she had thoroughly disguised her distress. He hoped they were past that now.

“Cat?” he whispered, crouching down to look her in the face. She still didn’t look up. He placed his hands over her furiously scrubbing hands, causing her to jump and let out a small scream.

Cat covered her mouth, looking horrified by the noise. When she looked up at Cullen, tears were steadily dripping down her face, but other than that, her expression was completely bland.

“Are you alright?” Cullen hadn’t gotten a full report of what had happened in the Fade, but he saw no report of major injuries from the Inquisition. But he had been informed that the Champion of Kirkwall had been left behind. “Is this about Hawke?” he cautiously asked. Caitlin was no great fan of the Viscountess, viewing her as a traitor of all mages. But having to leave a person behind to likely die could not have been an easy decision.

She gave a small shake of her head, barely perceptible. Cullen placed his hands on her bicep, getting Cat to jump even though she had seen him move. She was trembling under his hand. Her flinching when he touched her scarred arm let the pieces fall into place.

“Your phobia?” Cullen phrased the question carefully, knowing that even the word itself could put her in a worst state.

She nodded very slightly. “There were so many. And it was so large and I just— I couldn’t— I—” She kept tripping over her hitching sobs.

“Shhh,” he told her. “Don’t think about it.”

“I can’t!” she wailed. “I can’t even look at myself without thinking about it. Those things are all over me and I everytime I look down I—” She resumed scrubbing her staff. “At least I held it together before anyone saw me like this. I don’t know how I even managed to close that rift— I felt almost completely numb. But no one saw me like this.”

“You just faced off an archdemon and walked through the Fade. No one would even guess about your fear or judge you for being afraid.”

She insistently shook her head. “It’s not like that!” She shocked him with the ferocity in her voice. “You’re not a mage. You have no idea what it’s like! You don’t have everyone looking at you, waiting for you to turn into a monster. You get worked up about anything and they start wondering if you could get possessed.”

“Cat…” Her name slipped out as his heart broke. He through of the way she spoke about others in her clan. The way she could completely cover up her emotions when she wanted to. Her reaction to the Tranquils. He realized just how incredibly lucky he was that Caitlin had decided he was worth letting past her guard. Though he doubted that they would be together if she had ever spent any time in a Circle or around Templars before they had met.

“I didn’t even bat an eye at that dragon! But because some fucking demon got in my head and picked the worst thing he possibly could have—” She was still sniffling and a few stray tears still escaped, but her voice was no longer catching, just getting stronger and more steel-like.

“Do you want me to come to your room tonight with my new chessboard?” It had been her gift to him for his Name Day. “Or I could —”

“Inquisitor?” A cautious Ferelden voice called out. “Are you here?”

Cullen wanted to strangle the warden as he watched that perfect mask slide over Cat’s face, hiding any trace of her distress. Still, he must have helped some if she was able to rein in her emotions once more.

She wiped away the tears and stood to face Ser Alistair. “I’m here!” she called out.

The Grey Warden walked over to their hiding spot. “I’m about to set off for Weishaupt but I wanted to thank you once again for what you have done for the Wardens. We owe you great deal.” The blond gave a small salute.

Cat smiled and waved off the gratitude. “Your Order has done a great deal to help the world. We owe you,” she said serenely.

“And I’ll pass along your praises to my wife. She’ll love that.” Ser Alistair had that proud gleam in his eyes that appeared anytime the Hero of Ferelden came up in conversation.

“Oh— I— Um—” Cat was blushing furiously. “That is— I thank you, ser. And her! And tell her she really is a hero of mine! No!” Cat shook her head. “Don’t tell her that! Tell her she’s a great hero to the Dalish still. No, that sounds stupid. Tell her—”

Ser Alistair put a hand out to stop her. “I’ll tell her about the young Dalish girl she helped inspire to do great things as well.” He frowned slightly. “Well, probably not exactly that. I won’t sound nearly that articulate once I see her. That woman can make me forget how to use words entirely.”

Cullen could relate. Was is some power Dalish women had?

The two men saluted each other while Cat shily waved goodbye.

“I should get back to work,” she told him. She gave his hand a small squeeze and started to walk toward the rest of her Inner Circle.

Cullen had hoped that the small conversation about Cat’s personal hero had helped distract her enough from her ordeal, but when she gave him one last glance behind her, he could see the haunted terror that still laid in her eyes.

 

* * *

 

Nights spent in camp offered little privacy and Cullen and Cat had an awkward dance of trying to find moments to be a couple together while keeping their private life away from the rest of the camp. Back in Skyhold was one thing, but out in the field was another.

There was also the delicate balancing of finding some privacy for themselves. At home, they had their own rooms that they could retreat to. They had not yet crossed their relationship into a physical one yet, and Cullen was aware that the Dalish tended to treat sex with a different sort of reservation than human society did. He didn’t wish to pressure her, but juggling finding alone time while being sure that they were not _too_ alone was grating on both of their nerves.

So it was a great relief when they made it back to Skyhold quickly.

Cullen saw no signs of lasting distress from Caitlin’s experience in the Fade, other than some sluggishness, and he didn’t want to trigger a response by asking about it.

Instead in the evenings, he would show up at her door with some supper and his chessboard. They would play deep into the night when he would finally stumble back to his own chambers. Sometimes they wouldn’t get to the game. They would discuss their day or slip into a companionable silence as they read their own books on her couch or lounging in her ostentatious bed (Him reading war strategy; her some novel with another absurdly half-dress couple). Sometimes work kept him from going to her room, so she would come to him, pull a chair up next to his, holding hands while the sound of his quill scratching was all that was heard in the room, until Cat’s rhythmic breathing joined in, having fallen asleep in her chair. He’d wake her up and she’d kiss him at his door before drifting off to her own bed.

It was a nice routine. Comfortable and comforting.

But one evening when Cullen turned up at her door, she didn’t answer or call out for him to enter. When he knocked again and there was still no response, he wondered if she was in.

Screams echoed throughout her large room and out into the tower hallway. Cullen grabbed the handle, prepared to have to break the lock but the door opened easily and he ran up the stairs.

There was no monster. No assassin. Nothing there but Cat curled up on the bed, still fully clothed, looking like she had merely nodded off for a nap. But she was thrashing and yelling out still.

Cullen grabbed ahold of her. Her skin was practically burning and she was covered in sweat. “Cat! Cat, wake up! It’s a dream! It’s just a dream!”

She shot up, eyes wide and panicked. Every candle in the room blazed bright, quickly burning through the wax, taking several hours off of their lives. She still flailed, searching the room and her body for invisible creatures that weren’t there.

Cullen was relieved that he’d been off lyrium for long enough that it was a struggle to use his templar abilities, because his first instinct had been to tried and Silence her, which would not have done them any favors.

“It’s me, Cat. You’re safe.” He held her hands still while she let reality set it.

Caitlin’s eyes were overly large taking in the flaming candle and his panicked face. “Oh, Cullen, my magic! I’m so sorry! I could have hurt you!” She began checking him over, running her hands down his face and arms.

He picked up her hand in his own. Now that her magic had been released, she was quickly cooling down, getting closer to her normal warmth. “I’m fine, but are you?”

She swallowed. “I’m fine,” she said firmly. She pushed her hair off her face and tried to look poised and calm. “It was just a dream.”

His brows drew together in a scowl at the lie. “It’s just me here, Cat. That was more than just a dream. Have you been having many nightmares lately?”

“I—” She looked like she was searching for the _right_ thing to say instead of just the truth.

“It’s just me, Cat,” he told her again.

She deflated and whispered, “Yes.”

“About…” He had to phrase this just right. “About Adamant.”

She just nodded and hung her head as if she was ashamed of admitting it.

“You went through something awful. It’s alright if you’re still feeling the effect of it.”

She looked him in the eyes and shook her head ‘no’. “It’s more than that! I keep dreaming about that demon! It keeps taunting me! I can’t tell if it’s my own nightmares or if—” She stopped herself from continuing on.

“Or if it might really be the demon?” Cullen guess. It was a fear he had been plagued with for a decade as well.

She looked toward the dark window and nodded minutely.

“You don’t think it’s dead?”

She shrugged slightly. “I don’t know. We seriously injured it. And Hawke seemed to want to really hurt it when she stayed behind. But sometimes the demon in my dream talks about that. Says Hawke is dead and that Starkhaven prince is coming after me for revenge. Or sometimes it says it’s very weak, too weak to do any real damage. So it will just content itself to tormenting me everytime I go into the Fade. Sometimes, I just relive the battle or I’m a child again, lost in the forest.”

“Has it ever tempted you?” She shook her head no. “Has it ever offered you anything?” She shook her head no. “Then I don’t believe it’s the demon,” Cullen told her.

She looked back at him with watery eyes. “But can you be certain. Even a small demon can disguise itself. That Nightmare demon was so powerful, it had all of the Grey Wardens affected.”

“If it was a weak and wounded as you say,” he said confidently, “I doubt it has any subtlety in it left. I have an idea…” Cullen hoped he could find the right way to phrase it without sounding like he was asking something untowards. “I could stay here with you at night. I could assure you it isn’t the demon and wake you if you start having any more dreams.”

She debated it over. “You don’t mind?” she asked in a small voice.

“I would not have offered if I did.”

“But… The gossip. You won’t care if people see you sneaking in and out of my room?” She was looking down at the bedspread, picking at an invisible thread, but peering up at him through her long dark lashes. His motives had been entirely honorable when he made the suggestion, but he had trouble sticking to them when she was looking at him like that.

He placed his hand on her chin to get her to look up at him. “I told you, I would hate if there was nothing to talk about more.” His face quickly felt on fire. “Maker, that sounded better in my head. My intentions are entirely selfless, I swear. I—”

She kissed him. Sweet and chaste and she quickly pulled away. “Cullen, I know.” She gave him a questioning smile.”If you’re sure you don’t mind, I would really appreciate it.”

The atmosphere was awkward and strained between them while the readied themselves for bed. He stood in the small closet to grant them both some privacy while they changed into their night clothes. He wasn’t in his armor when he had come to her room. Just a tunic, a linen shirt and a pair of loose linen slacks. After removing his tunic, it was about as comfortable as anything else he owned to sleep in without just stripping down to his smalls, so there was no need to return to his room first.

When she gave him the all clear to re-enter her room, he found that her clothing look more appropriate for sleeping, but also served as a bit of a distraction for him. Dark drawstring pants matched with a light colored camisole like the one he’d seen her wear when she first showed him her scars. Though this time without a breast band offering some modesty.

She flitted about nervously, straightening up a room that was regularly attended to by the castle staff. He realized he was staring. “Do you like sleeping on the left side or the right?” she asked.

Cullen gave a small smile and rubbed at the back of his neck. “It makes no difference to me. Until Skyhold, I was used to a small cot, even as Knight Commander.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “I don’t really have a side, but I usually wake up on the left so I’ll sleep there?” When he nodded that it was acceptable, she moved to ‘her’ side of the bed and pulled back the cover. “Do you have any particular preferences about the blankets or anything? I tend to kick them off in my sleep.”

“Whatever suits you best,” he told her.

The both got under the covers, sticking to their own sides in absolute silence.

He had fallen asleep in her room— even her bed— before, but it had always been an accident. Trying to fall asleep with her warmth so near and the awkwardness nearly crushing him.

She reached out a hand under the covers and placed it in his and he gave it a squeeze. It was enough of a prompt from him, that Caitlin rolled over and curled herself against his chest. “This is nice. I really do appreciate it.”

He kissed her head. _I love you,_ he nearly said. They hadn’t said the words to each other yet. And as each day passed, it felt like they were seconds from bubbling out of him. He wanted to tell her, but what if she didn’t feel the same? What if it frightened her away? Instead, “For you, anything.”

 

* * *

 

Her nightmares did not go away that night. Or the next. Or the next.

But they did get easier with time. Caitlin never lashed out with her magic ever again and when her thrashing and screams woke Cullen from his own terrors, it became easier and easier to pull her out of the dream. She also began to believe him that it wasn’t the demon, just her own fear haunting her (though Cullen suspected that Cole may have had a word with her).

Somehow, he managed to keep his own dreams hidden from her. She had her own struggles and he didn’t need to weigh her down with his right then. But she did comment on him talking in his sleep one night. “It’s cute,” she said with a grin while he blushed.

After several week had passed, sleeping in her room was getting to be …difficult. The awkwardness had quickly disappeared quickly. And with her worries starting to disappear from her daily life, they would spend time in her bed, in various states of dress, getting closer and closer to crossing that final line.

Cullen wanted to make sure it was on Caitlin’s terms. Their new sleeping arrangement were born of concern and fear while she struggled to come to terms with everything that happened in the Fade. To Cullen, it felt like he would have been taking advantage of the situation.

But, Maker, the way she pressed up against him, only a thin layer of fabric between them. Her tongue flicking out to drag across his lips. Where her hands roamed...It was maddening.

But one morning, for no other reason than enough time had passed, he woke up from his own dream to find the sunlight flooding the room and Caitlin spread out across her bed, drooling in her sleep.

She’d managed to sleep through the night. No nightmares. He almost wanted to wake her to celebrate, but she needed the sleep.

She had _clearly_ needed the sleep. It wasn’t until after midday that she woke up, Cullen reclining in her bed, reading one of the books he kept in there.

“Morning,” she said with sleepy smile.

“Good afternoon,” he corrected with a grin.

“It’s after Noon?” she asked, hope and bewilderment dancing in her eyes.

“You slept all night. Not even a fuss.”

She bit her lip and grinned at him. “This is the most well rested I’ve felt in a long while.” Relief was dripping from her voice. He hadn’t noticed the dark bags beneath her eyes or the weary slump of her shoulders until they were now gone.

Neither of them asked if it was just a fluke. He’d seen how it could get to her, undoing her progress. Sometimes, a mention would roll right off of her. Sometimes, even a vague mention to Adamant would keep her up all night.

Like him, the experience she had gone through as a child would stay with her for her life, exacerbated by the Nightmare demon. But the fresh wounds were starting to scab over and the worst of it was passing.

When they were woken up by the sun several days in a row, she began to laugh joyfully and then straddled him and kissed him with abandon.

“This is a fantastic way to start the day,” she murmured against his lips.

“I absolutely agree.”

Her hands began to travel under his shirt. With a wicked grin, “And this is even better…” She tugged at his shirt until he finally removed it. Dragging her hands down and rubbing herself against him.

He cautiously raised a hand to her breast, giving her plenty of opportunity to stop him or object. Instead, she placed her own hand on top of his and squeezed. Oh, Maker, she felt—

She broke off their kiss long enough to put her own shirt off. “Maker, you’re beautiful,” Cullen whispered.

She rewarded him by rolling her hips on top of his, with just the right pressure he let out a moan.

It was enough to break his composure. He grabbed her hips and fluidly flipped them around so he was on top of her. She let out a small yelp followed by a giggle.

He continued to kiss her, tongue reaching out to taste her. She buried her hands into his hair, giving and gentle tug and releasing another moan from him, breaking their kiss and leaning back into her fingers, and practically bucking into her.

“You definitely like that,” Cat murmured, pleased with herself.

“Yes, I do,” Cullen growled out. “I’m liking all of this.”

He bent his head down to her breast, taking a nipple into his mouth. She gasped and arched into him. He made sure he gave both breasts equal amount of attention, switching between them and letting his hand knead the one his mouth was on.

The room was quiet and still beyond their gasps and moans; the fire having died out long ago. Outside, Cullen could hear the Chantry’s bells ringing out— likely marking the time, but to him it was almost as if the world around him was celebrating as well.

He started to kiss down her belly, but when he reached the top of her pants, Cat sat up. “Wait! Stop!” she said, barely above a whisper, but urgently. She pulled at his head. “I have to stop. We have to stop!”

Cullen sat up immediately. He’d done exactly as he had feared and pushed her to far.

“Creators, I am so sorry. Shit!” Caitlin scrambled off the bed. “She’ll be so disappointed in me,” she muttered.

_Who would be disappointed? Her keeper?_

“I should go. Dread Wolf take me!” she whispered angrily under her breath. “Cullen, I am so sorry!”

She wrestled herself into a breast band and threw on the clothes she typically wore around Skyhold.

“I’m really sorry, Cullen.” Cat told him one last time before she ran out the door.

Maker he was a fool. How could he have misread the situation?

Cullen ran his hand through his hair, absolutely disgusted with himself. He grabbed his shirt and roughly pulled it back. Pulled on his boot and picked up the books he kept in the room and left. It was time he moved back into his own quarters, since he clearly couldn’t be trusted around her.

He put on the rest of his armor in his room and was in a foul mood the rest of the day. Most of his men avoided him and he felt a vague sense of sympathy for his lieutenants he’d be meeting with later that night. No one should have to deal with him in such a mood, but the meeting was important and couldn’t be put off.

Sometime just before evening set in, a tentative knock came at his door.

“What?” he snapped. If this was Ser James asking another asinine question, he’d be to the Hissing Wastes for the rest of his days.

“Cullen,” Cat’s voice called out. “It’s me… Can we talk?”

Cat never knocked… and it wasn’t a good sign that she had now.

 _Maker, she’s come to end it_ , he thought. He couldn’t blame her, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Of course,” he called back. He should have answered the door, but he wanted to delay the inevitable as long as possible. At least he managed to control his voice.

Caitlin stuck her head inside, cocking so her hair tumbled down, showing of her pointed ears more prominently than usual.

“Mind if I come in?” she asked.

“You never need to ask,” he blurted out. Maker’s breath, he was just going to make this harder on himself wasn’t he?

“About this morning, I really should apologize aga—”

“No, I should,” he cut her off. “How I acted was abominable. I shouldn’t have pushed you so far, especially if you’re not ready.”

Caitlin cocked her head once more, her brow drawn up together, messing up the branching lines of her tattoo— her _vallaslin_ she’d told him. “What?”

“I was demanding, which is unforgivable, especially with everything you’ve been through. I —”

“Cullen, stop. What are you—” Her eyes were search his face for something. “Do you think I left this morning because I _wanted_ to?” Cullen only managed a nod, bewildered by the question. “Oh Creators! No.” It was firm, like she was giving an order. “Absolutely not. Trust me, leaving was the _last_ thing I wanted to do. I was rather thoroughly enjoying myself …I thought you were too?”

“I was!” Cullen called out. “I mean—” He rubbed his neck. “I—” Andraste save him. He was making a mess of this. “You just looked so panicked, I thought I had done something to upset you.”

Caitlin gave a small, unlady-like snort. “I was panicked because Cassandra could probably break me in half.”

“Pardon?”

She dragged a hand across her face smothering her smile. “I’ve stood Cassandra up four days in a row now. We’ve had a small reading group going for a few months and had a meeting planned the morning I slept all day. She understood and we rescheduled for the next day. Which I completely forgot about. And the next day as well.” Cat looked rather sheepish. “Yesterday, she made several threats to my body if I forgot again. When I heard the Chantry bells I realized I was late and she was going to kill me.”

“That was it? You weren’t angry or—”

“Cullen, if you thought I was angry at you for what you were doing to me, how do you think I would have felt if we had finished what we had started?”

Cullen’s face was a deep red. Partly at the thought about being able to finish what they had started, but mostly embarrassed about how greatly he had misinterpreted her reaction.

Cat stepped closer to him and began to play with the fur on his mantle. “And I _do_ want to finish what we started. Do you have some time?”

She was looking up at him through those long dark lashes and Cullen cursed himself for not being able to answer yes. “I—” He cleared his throat. “I, um, have some men coming here soon. But I can send them away.” That had not been true when the issue was just his bad temper, but for her he would find a way.

But she shook her head. “No, you should meet with them. If anything, this morning taught me that now that I’m doing better, we should get back to our duties properly. Later then?”

“They should be gone in a few hours,” Cullen offered hopefully.

She stood up on her toes and gave him a lingering kiss. “I’ll see you then.”

The meeting seemed to last forever. But when he was going over Rylen’s movements, he looked up from the map and saw her standing by the door.

He quickly shepherded everyone out.

With a sigh he closed the door. “There is always something more, isn’t there?”

“Wishing we were somewhere else?” she replied with a grin.

 

 


End file.
